


Alteration

by AngelofDarkness1605



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 19:04:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4757516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofDarkness1605/pseuds/AngelofDarkness1605
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle and Rumplestiltskin encounter a most interesting side effect when one of the sorcerer's experiments goes spectacularly wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alteration

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to LiliannaBelle, without whom this fic wouldn't exist.

"Rumplestiltskin, are you all right?!" Belle manages to say in between coughs when the red smoke in his turret slowly clears.

Using her hands to make certain that she doesn't bump into something  _again_ , she makes her way towards the direction where she last saw her master, too worried for him to be concerned about the anger she probably evoked by ruining his work like this.

"Belle?"

Beyond relieved when she hears his voice, she doesn't quite notice that the way she walks isn't quite like usual… that her  _body_ isn't quite like usual.

"Rumple!" she cries out in relief when she reaches him. Before she thinks better of it, she runs her hands over his shoulders and arms, making certain that he's still in one piece. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm not. Are  _you_?!" he asks, his eyes wide and frantic with which can't possibly be worry for  _her_.

His hands are on her as well then, although his touch is considerably more careful. She would have cherished the unfamiliar sensation of his warm, tentative palms and fingers on her bare skin if it weren't for the situation.

"I'm all right," she quickly reassures him. "But I'm so sorry for disturbing your work!"

" _I_ was the one who spilled the unicorn's blood, dearie," he says, neither his attempt at his sing-song voice nor the accusing finger he half-heartedly jabs towards her face particularly convincing. "Don't take credit where no credit is due!"

She knows better than to remind him that he wouldn't have spilled said unicorn's blood if he hadn't been… well, Belle wouldn't pretend to be certain that he was watching  _her_  rather than his work at the time of the incident, when she curiously made her way past the shelves of books in his tower, but she definitely caught him looking at her several times.

"Are you certain that you aren't harmed in any way, Belle? These are potent ingredients. They won't necessarily hurt you, but they might… change you."

She doesn't want to say just yet that  _he_ might be the one who is changed, interacting with her the way he does. Belle knows that he cares for her, in his own, always denied way. It has never been clearer than now, as he keeps his hands on her, his fingers curiously gentle, and looks at her with those unexpectedly warm eyes.

They are closer to one another too, more so than he ever allowed them to be before, other than the times when he caught her when she fell from the ladder and when she embraced him after he had let Robin Hood escape.

"Are you really all right?" she asks again, just in case, intuitively reaching out to brush the back of her hand against his forehead, checking his temperature.

He nods but he feels warm and she has no idea whether he's normally this high temperature. Then again, she's starting to feel rather flustered herself, especially when there's a tingle deep inside of her that she has never experienced before… or at least, not to this extent.

"Oh, I… Rumplestiltskin, I think there's something wrong with me after all."

They are so close that she can  _smell_ him, intoxicating and forbidden, and she shudders when he tightens his hold on her with one hand ever so slightly. The other is stroking her arm, probably hardly aware that he's doing it, that he's touching her more intimately than he has ever done.

"What's wrong?!"

His voice is rough in a way it has never been before, seemingly adding to the strange sensations that wash over her. There's a distinctive twitch at a place where… well, a place where she has been taught not to think of, even if marriage weren't be out of the question. Never mind that she  _has_ felt things there, before, but never nearly as powerfully as this.

"There's something…  _something_ ," she brings out, unable to describe the sudden straining weight between her legs, the  _ache_ occurring there without warning or explanation.

Panic taking over, she doesn't think for a moment before she hikes up her skirt right in front of her master, oblivious that his eyes widen in equal terror, in order to see what might be happening to her.

She gasps when she finds that her drawers are tented in a way they've never been before. Even as she tells herself that this can't possibly be what she thinks it is, that she doesn't even know what this might look like on anyone other than herself - anyone other than a  _woman_  - it's becoming shockingly clear to her what appears to have happened - what, indeed, is  _still_ happening.

And yet, there's no holding back when she reaches for the seemingly impossible new addition to her body, gasping and stumbling when her light, tentative touch has pleasure shooting all throughout her.

Rumplestiltskin catches her, preventing her from falling over her own, suddenly rather useless legs. His hands are on her waist then, strong and steadying, but there's nothing remotely calming about his supporting grip.

Her clumsiness has brought her yet closer towards him, her face practically ending up in the crook of his head and shoulder. Her arms make their way around his neck of their own accord, her entire body shuddering when her breasts press lightly against his chest… and when her recent addition brushes against something similarly present, but not quite so new.

Rumplestiltskin groans into her hair, the reaction leaving her in turn gasping against him. The friction it causes only leaves her dizzier with something she can't quite describe, the unfamiliar sensations rushing through her leaving her both breathless and unable to think clearly.

"You're making it worse," she blurts out before she can consider the implications of either the cause of this discovery of the consequences of her words.

"We… we shouldn't be together right now," he says hoarsely. "Belle, just… go to your chambers. It'll pass."

"How do I make it stop?" she brings out, both exhilarated and terrified by the way this new part of her makes her feel, to the extent that she hardly hears what he just said. In fact, his tone registers more than anything else about his words, and this unfamiliar, rough quality to his voice isn't calming down matters in the slightest.

"Try a cold bath," he replies with obvious difficulty. "The castle will provide it for you. Although the lake is closer from here… and it works too."

Belle is too far gone to remind him of the magic he possesses but seems to have forgotten all about… or the discovery that the knows quite a lot about dealing with this sort of physical state… or rather, in a way,  _not_ dealing with it.

In fact, she is too far gone for anything but exploring this most unexpected development, driven solely by curiosity and something which is probably sheer lust. It barely registers in her mind either that the sorcerer says something about the effects probably being only temporary.

"I want to take a look," she mutters, more to herself than to him. After all, it  _is_ part of her now, and she wants to study with her own eyes whatever it is exactly that makes her feel like this.

She does turn away from her master for propriety's sake, managing to take a few steps away from him as well. But that's where her control ends, the lightest of brush of fabric against her impossibly sensitive new flesh leaving her gasping in delight and wonder.

That's how Belle ends up dragging her drawers down right in front of Rumplestiltskin. She isn't aware whether the back of her hiked up dress at least covers her rear or not, not when the sight that greets her has her gasping in bewildered disbelief.

"I've got a… penis," she murmurs, actually seeing it yet more bizarre than saying those words.

For quite some time, she can only stare at the transformation, right where the most unspoken part of her body used to be: wholly unexpected, utterly strange and  _big_ , its size increasing even as she looks at it, breathing heavily, the very air around it seeming to make it react.

"How did this happen?!" she asks, the impossibilities that she witnesses in the Dark Castle on a daily basis not having quite prepared her for  _this_. "Did we… swap?"

Before she can wonder if such a thing is possible, her gaze is instinctively drawn over her shoulder to the… existence at the front of his trousers, which is considerably more prominent than usual.

"We didn't," Rumplestiltskin replies tensely.

"But what…  _how_ …"

"It must be the mix of ingredients, although I must admit that this particular side-effect is… unknown to me. As for the 'what'… at this point I can only assume that this is what you would have looked like if you had been born a man."

"I had no idea what it looks like in reality," she breathes, yet more fascinated.

It's one thing to look at it, but probably quite another to actually touch it directly. There's nothing that's preventing her from doing just that, to satisfy her curiosity and to give into... well, something indescribable but very insistent.

Belle bunches all the layers that usually cover her in a single hand and reaches to the still slightly increasing new part of her with the other. Subconsciously holding her breath, she experimentally cups herself in the palm of her hand, keening with the pleasure that the friction provides.

Something is throbbing deep inside of her, its origin right where she just touched herself. Her breathing hard and fast, there's a part of her that knows that this will be over very soon if she continues like this, that it won't give her much time to experiment now that she has accidentally gotten this bizarre but wonderful chance, of which she has no idea how long it may last.

Not yet wondering whether this is reversible in the first place, and how Rumplestiltskin might feel about assisting her to get back to her regular physical self, she takes a deep breath. Intuitively sensing that she has to start slowly and limit the pressure if she wants this to last for at least a little while, she first makes an effort to get her hand under control.

When it isn't trembling as badly any longer, Belle runs one, then two thoroughly intrigued and eager fingers along the side of her length, whimpering at the sensations that those touches cause. The incredible feelings almost have her forgetting about her master, who still was right with her in the room the last time she looked, hardly unaffected by the proceedings.

The sound of a moan that isn't hers catches her attention regardless. Neither of her hands leaving their current position, she looks over her shoulder to find the sorcerer looking at her with wide, very dark eyes, the usually subtle golden sheen on his face considerably brighter than she has ever seen before.

Rumplestiltskin too is breathing harshly, but all Belle can notice about him in that very moment, other than his eyes which might as well be devouring her despite the distance between them, is the part of him that seems to be as excited as the recent addition to her own body is.

Before, she was too caught up in the situation to realize he was still present at all. But right now, it seems he's way to far away from her, his eyes focused on the wrong side of her.

"Do you want to… look?" she asks, a shrill edge to her voice, the urge to share this with him becoming as insistent as her desire to explore every aspect of this change of her body with him.

"I... I shouldn't..."

If it weren't for the situation, she would have been surprised to see her usually so very eloquent master just stand there, his mouth opening and closing without more words coming out.

"I wouldn't mind if you did," she adds, not knowing at all how she might make her interest in his participation clear without either betraying her aching desire for him or by overestimating his apparent lust for her. "I wouldn't mind at all."

"You don't... you don't have to, Belle. I'll... I'll leave you in peace. I'll leave you as long as you like. Just... take your time to do what you... want to do, take as long as you want, I'll just go and..."

Although her attention is drawn from her own body and the desire coursing through it for the time being, her heartbeat and the heaviness of her breathing only increases, just like the heat on her cheeks. This situation is completely unlike anything she imagined when she thought of her ever increasing affection for Rumplestiltskin actually leading to... something between the fascinating, uniquely handsome sorcerer and herself, but now she wants him to join her like she has never needed anything in her life before.

"You'll go and do what?" she asks quietly. "You'll touch yourself, too? When I can't see or hear you?"

The sound he makes in response is almost inhuman, his knees visibly buckling.

"Or will you take a forgetting potion?" she adds, considering that option as least as likely.

"Yes," he says, nodding furiously, as if he is thoroughly relieved by that prospect. "Yes. I'll... I'll do that. I'll never remember, I'll never  _know_..."

"Look if you want to. I _want_  you to."

"Are you certain that you..."

" _Yes._ Please, Rumple. Will you come here?"

The sorcerer takes one shuddering step towards her, and another, his throat visibly working. She is in a similar state, both of them knowing very well on a primal level that his interest is hardly academical.

Rumplestiltskin isn't walking slowly, but it seems to take half an eternity before he has crossed the room and has reached her. Another age might as well have passed before he takes that final step, which has his body brush hers and allows him to look down the front of her body.

No matter how tempting it still is to stare in the same direction, Belle keeps her attention solely on his face for now. It's so very beautiful already when he relaxes behind his wheel rather than when it is contorted with mockery or rage... and it is utterly enchanting and captivating now that he looks at her with such want.

" _Gods_ …" he mutters, his voice all awe and something that sounds like the way her own touches feel.

His tone alone has her twitching with want, until it finally occurs to her that, perhaps, his enthusiasm has very little to do with  _her_.

"Rumplestiltskin, is this… is this because it's  _male_?"

"What?" he asks in confusion, his eyes only further widening in realization when she glances meaningfully at her newfound manhood. " _No_. Gods, Belle, no. It's because… it's because it's  _you_."

After meeting her eyes for several insisting seconds, his gaze goes back down, and so does hers. Once more, she just can't stop looking at this new addition to her body… and neither can Rumplestiltskin, for that matter.

"I… I want to touch it again," she brings out, the growing awareness that the caresses she has in mind have very little to do with mere curiosity bringing a yet deeper blush to her cheeks.

"Do whatever you want," he replies hoarsely.

She  _knows_ that and she already  _has_ done exactly what she wants, but that it's his presence that makes everything different, that makes it yet  _more_. Rather than his words, it's his gaze going almost frantically from the changed part of her to her face and back again that reminds her that it's up to her, that he wants whatever she wishes to do herself.

When she nods, Rumplestiltskin wordlessly gathers her skirt in his hands, taking them from hers. It leaves both her own hands free, enabling her to set them to more productive tasks. He places his hands questioningly on her waist, keeping the fabric in place between his palms and her hips. His careful but strong touch is steadying, in a way, but makes her only more eager, more  _desperate_ , at the same time.

Taking another deep breath, Belle moves her fingertips along the length once more, the barest pressure in combination with his nearness leaving her practically wailing. Never mind being somewhat patient and making this last... never mind control. She  _needs_  this, whatever it may lead to, no matter how almost terrifyingly intensive these sensations are. She needs it, and she needs it  _now_.

Still, she has no idea how she might actually do this. When she cups herself again, clumsily, pleasure spreads throughout her once more, but it feels like it isn't enough. She doesn't know what it isn't enough  _for_ , but it occurs to her that she doesn't know how she might quickly find the unknown destination she so desperately seeks.

"There's a… there's better way," the sorcerer rasps, understanding her frustration before she has found a way to put it into words.

"Show me?"

She is too far gone to consider the implications of her none too timid request, but she trusts him entirely. His reply is half a growl and half a gasp, and then his hand is reaching for the transformed part of her. Belle may or may not have actually shrieked in frustration when he stills right before he actually touches her, wordlessly asking for her permission even now.

When she nods wildly, Rumplestiltskin takes her hand in his, his palm covering the back of own, smaller hand. Guiding her, his fingers on hers, he shows her how to wrap her hand around the new part of herself. Her eyes closing abruptly, she hisses at the pleasure that this new touch brings her.

She is convinced that it can't get any better than this, but then he  _strokes_ their joined hands up and down her length, starting a slow but firm rhythm, and it's as if the fire within her takes over completely.

" _Yes_ ," she hisses in approval, feeling yet better when he groans against her neck, as if he enjoys this as much as she does.

Then again, she finds out that she isn't the only one who is madly aroused when her knees buckle and he steps closer to support her weight, his front pressing against her backside. The pressure isn't high by any means, but it makes very clear to her that he's at least as influenced by this as she is herself, despite having done nothing but watch her and guide her own exploration.

Belle shivers in wonder, at the discovery that he reacts to the situation like this... that  _she_ does this to him. When he moves both their hands along her length again, she backs into him instinctively, rubbing her backside against his crotch.

Her delight increases yet further when he presses himself against her in what appears to be an equally intuitive manner. Convinced that Rumplestiltskin likes this as much as she does herself, she moves herself more firmly against him... only for him to back up abruptly and let go of her without warning.

"What's wrong?!" she cries out, feeling utterly bereft. "Why did you stop?"

"Are you saying that you don't mind..."

No matter what he meant to say exactly, the words never leave his mouth when her fiery gaze meets his.

"Not in the slightest," she replies, wondering how he can possibly think at this point that she isn't thoroughly enjoying everything he does.

Still, the fact that Rumplestiltskin  _asks –_  in his own way, at least – makes her only more appreciative of him, keeps the shame at bay she would have expected to experience had she ever been able to imagine anything like  _this._

On the other hand, the conversation reminds her that she has basically no idea what they are doing, her knowledge very limited despite her efforts to gather theoretical knowledge on the forbidden subject.

All she has is some general awareness of what might happen between a man and a woman, but the same can't be said for the pleasure that can apparently be shared by a man and... well, whatever she technically is at the moment.

"You'd like me to... continue?" he asks, looking at her with almost tangible hope.

Belle nods eagerly, her previous line of thought – or rather, all of them – forgotten when he continues to guide her hand with his own. Wanting him to feel as good as she does herself, she pushes herself against him in what she hopes is an enticing manner, wordlessly encouraging him to do the same with her.

"Does this... suffice?" she brings out, before she is too far gone with arousal herself. "Moving against me like this?"

"It does," Rumplestiltskin growls into her ear, his voice lower than she thought it could be. "Oh yes, it does."

Both the sound of his voice and the way his words vibrate against her ear has her gasping and rubbing herself shamelessly against him in a way that has both of them crying out loudly.

"Do you… do you this, Rumple?" she wants to know as she looks down, seeing him bringing her such pleasure only adding to the delight of the friction itself. "With yourself?"

"Yes," he whispers, sounding positively pained.

"Does it feel like this for you? So good?"

"For me, nothing feels as good as  _this_."

"Do you think about me when you do this?" she asks, only barely managing to speak the words when she shudders at his revelation and something somewhere deep inside of her is coiling, tighter and tighter and  _tighter._ "When you do this on your own?"

" _Yes_."

That single syllable is hardly more than a choke against her slick skin. She doesn't get the chance to consider the implications of his response right there and then, for he starts to withdraw his hand from her once more.

"I shouldn't have done that, I  _know_. I told myself that whenever I... But it didn't help. I'm  _so_ sorry for..."

" _Don't stop_ ," she says, almost hissing the words.

Belle doesn't want his apologies – not now at least, and not for  _this_. She doesn't recognize the wanton creature she has become, as if there was an accident with a lust potion of sorts rather than  _this,_  but she doesn't care as long as he looks like he wants this just as much as she does herself.

The sorcerer seems to come to the same conclusion and starts touching her again, much to her relief of a more than physical kind. There's a liquid of sorts gathering at her tip, making his touch feel yet better when he spreads it along her length. It makes her wonder what he looks like right now, beneath his leather and shattered air of aloofness.

She wants wants to see him - and not just because she wants to find out what he might look like compared to her. But in the current circumstances, her arousal leaving her lightheaded and helpless, she can't possibly think of a way to get him out of his clothes and into her line of sight without interrupting what they're doing.

There simply aren't enough hands between the two of them, and the same very much goes for their currently available focus. Still, she craves touching him almost as much as reaching the end of the road they're taking and... and feeling his hand without hers being there as well.

Without giving it a second thought, without thinking at all, Belle frees her hand and reaches behind her, blindly finding his leather-clad backside.

" _You_ touch me," she manages to bring out, at the same time pulling him more tightly against herself and  _squeezing._  "Please."

" _Sweetheart_ ," he groans – or at least, she thinks that's what he says, for the syllables trembling against her neck are loud but hardly comprehensible.

Only more encouraged by his hoarse use of that term of endearment, she moves herself purposefully yet more firmly against him. That's the last somewhat conscious action she's capable of for the time being, for Rumplestiltskin simultaneously wraps his hand firmly around her manhood.

The touches there may have felt incredible when he guided her own hand, but not even that could have prepared her for the pleasure that he brings her now that his own warm, unfamiliarly textured palm and fingertips stimulate her directly.

The sorcerer seems to have lost control in an equal manner, if not more so, turning them into a grinding and stroking uncoordinated mess, moaning and grunting in their mutual quest for  _more_.

"It's almost happening," she cries out, sensing that the end draws near, whatever that end might be exactly. Intellectually, she has some notion about what's taking place, but the ache inside of her is coiling yet tighter and hotter, more so than she could have imagined even a moment ago. "Gods,  _Rumple..._ "

His left hand lets go of the fabric on her waist, causing it to partially pool around her thighs. The relief that the material falls in such a way that it doesn't obscure her view of what he's doing to her is forgotten when Rumplestiltskin lays his now free arm across her torso to cup her right breast.

"Me too, sweetheart.  _Almost_..."

The choked sound of his voice is enough to bring her to what must be the very edge of the precipice they are approaching. The additional encouragement of the way he kneads her breast simultaneously and jerks against her in a seemingly helpless manner appears to increase the strength of the release she's nearing yet further.

She  _shrieks_  when the pressure inside of her reaches a breaking point, washing over her to spread to the furthest regions of her being. Just before her eyes snap shut instinctively, fluid erupts from the tip of the newly acquired part of her body, right when Rumplestiltskin suddenly goes still and sobs her name against her neck, clinging to her.

Her body aflame and all her senses filled with the wonderfulness of what is happening, Belle is only vaguely aware of the dampness between them, how neither of them can remain standing and he helps both of them sit down as they gasp for breath almost in unison.

She doesn't know whether she dozes or actually briefly loses consciousness, but when she opens her eyes again, Belle finds herself sitting on the floor, his body cushioning hers to keep her comfortable. Glancing down herself, she finds that her skirt is demurely pulled down, the sorcerer's hand resting on her clothed knee rather than where it was earlier.

The pleasure of before is reduced to an ever so lovely warmth while she remains in her master's loving embrace, but she is distracted regardless. Her wish to enjoy the current circumstances for as long as possible is interrupted by feeling different right there where all this started... or rather, by the feeling that something isn't as different as it just was.

Despite the urgency between them being no longer there, Belle still feels no hesitance whatsoever when she pulls her skirt up and her drawers down once more. Her eyes confirm what she already suspected based on the changed weight between her legs.

"It's back to normal," she announces for Rumplestiltskin's understanding, belatedly realizing that he doesn't exactly know what 'normal' is - not in her particular case, at least.

"Is it?" he asks, the tone of his voice coming from behind her telling her that he hasn't peeked over her shoulder this time, that he still doesn't.

"It is," she replies, disappointed but not surprised that the doesn't look at this particular part of her body now that it's no longer under the influence of the uncompleted potion and it has been returned to its regular shape once more. "Do you think it got back to normal because of... because of what we just did?"

"I don't know, sweetheart," he says, sighing in a way that has nothing to do with the magical aspect of what they just experienced. "I really don't know."

"Do you think that we could try to..."

Belle falters, not knowing what to say, what to  _feel_ , now that all of this is said and done and it seems unlikely – under their normal circumstances, at least – that they will ever experience again what they just did.

"We should probably clean up," he says tensely.

"We… we should, yes," she replies, trying to come up with a way to make this a start rather than an ending while she curiously eyes the substance that poured from her manhood – and from his, presumably – and now covers her thighs and his hand.

All of it, along with her perspiration and the unruliness of her hair by the feeling of it is gone with a mere snap of his fingers. Just like that, he erases all physical evidence of what just transpired between them. Her skirt and drawers are also back in place once more.

It doesn't make her feel better in the slightest, in a way that goes beyond the lingering sense of dampness of her skin and clothes alike. For the first time, she understands what he means when he insists that magic isn't all that suitable for as far as mundane tasks are concerned.

"Belle, do you... do you regret what we just did? What  _I_ did?"

He sounds vulnerable and unusually small, causing her to turn around and face him for the first time since he touched her so intimately. His face is still covered in a golden sheen, but it's the fear in his eyes which catches her attention.

"My only regret of what we did, of what I  _asked_ you to do, is that I didn't get to see  _you,_ " she says firmly, wanting him to see how happy she is about what they just did.

Rumplestiltskin opens his mouth to reply to her, but no sound comes from his usually so very eloquent lips when he stares at her in almost tangible disbelief.

"I really,  _really_ enjoyed what we just did," she says, delighted that the sorcerer allows her to carefully touch the side of his face, marveling at the warmth and unexpected softness of it when he leans in to her touch, his eyes closing. "Do you think that... maybe we can try this again? If you could find a way to recreate the effect of the ingredients you spilled, for us to... enjoy each other again... I'd  _really_ like that."

"I'd really like that as well," he rasps, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal the warmest and gentlest eyes she has ever seen.

His response is belied by his tentative tone, reminding her once more how fragile their relationship is, whatever exactly it was before and has turned into now. Despite the obvious enjoyment and pleasure both of them just found, it wouldn't surprise her in the slightest that the elusive sorcerer will soon pretend that it they shouldn't have surrendered themselves to it the way they did.

"Maybe we can also try to... touch when I'm the way I normally am," she adds carefully, gauging his reaction.

She can't imagine that anything her own body might be capable of can feel nearly as good as it did with when it was like a man's, but when his eyes widen at the prospect and something right where she just changed throbs in response, she is more than willing to try it.

But that will be later, if it will happen at all. She doesn't know how long it might take before they can explore one another once more, considering the current emotional aftermath or the limitations of their bodies – her own feels wholly spent at the moment.

Her skin and clothes feeling like they have been 'cleaned' by a breeze of air rather than by soap and water, inspiration strikes for something intimate they might be actually able to enjoy in the very near future.

"Let's take a bath together?"

Rumplestiltskin looks like he's going to object, extensively, but when she cups his cheek in her hand, he tentatively smiles at her instead.

"Let's take a bath, together, right now," she adds for emphasis, smiling herself as well when he nods in response, taking her in with wide, ever disbelieving eyes.

"As you wish," he whispers hoarsely, starting to look at her with more than barely concealed affection and curiosity again.

"Then what are we waiting for?"

He blinks a few times, as if expecting to wake up from a dream, but then he gets into motion. Standing up from the ground, he lifts her up in his arms as if she hardly weighs anything at all. Never taking his cautious gaze off her, Rumplestiltskin holds her reverently when he carries her straight to his bathroom.


End file.
